Monday, May 9, 2011

bitch, bitch bitch bitch...

Even living in the heart of NYC during the crack epidemic of the 80s, with hookers turning tricks in the hallways and lounging on front stoops, I've never had a neighbor who bitches as much as this one. Loudly. To anyone who says hello to her. About everything but especially about me. It's almost a phenomenon. She bitches on the front porch, she bitches in the hallway (which she seems to think is hers exclusively), she bitches from her back stoop- and she's so loud I can't get away from it. My only escape is in headphones. Which is when I miss phone calls, because the volume is turned down because she also lurks and listens at my door.

The irony isn't lost on me, that I'm bitching about someone bitching. But this isn't fun and there's nowhere to go with it. She's a bully and I'm going to have to take her down a peg at some point. She drove the last people who lived here out but she's not getting away with her shit with me. I just haven't figured out how to do it.

Meanwhile, I've already done everything possible to accommodate her. Perhaps that's the key. Just stop being nice. Instead of headphones, turn the volume up over her mouth. Take the draft roll away from the door so she gets full incense and tobacco smells. Really give her something to bitch about. She's bitching anyway; what have I got to lose?

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